Midnight Jewels

what it was she hoped to accomplish. Mercy was aware only of a desperate need to provoke him out of his contained, controlled desire. She wanted him as wild as he had made her. She needed to know he was as caught up in the wonder and excitement of the moment as she was. "Do you hear me, Croft? I don't believe you. I hardly know you. How can I possibly know what passes for honor with you? How can I trust you? A woman would be an idiot to put herself in the hands of a man who admits he's an expert on violence. I don't believe you anymore. I don't trust you."
    She felt the change in him immediately. Mercy was elated by the abrupt, trembling tension that suddenly gripped him. But when she saw the new brilliance in his eyes she feared for a moment she might have gone too far.
    "Damn it, you don't have any choice except to believe me." Croft's voice was suddenly raw. "You're going to belong to me."
    "Am I?" She was taunting him and knew that in the morning she would be appalled by her own recklessness.
    He wrapped his hands in her hair, chaining her. "Admit it," he breathed fiercely. "Admit you want me. Say it."
    She caught her bream and then gave him the truth, unable to deny it. "I want you."
    "Tell me you trust me. Tell me you were lying when you said you didn't believe you could trust me."
    She sighed and surrendered to the rest of the truth. Her limited self-control was gone already. She didn't have his power or his strength of will. And she wanted him so desperately. "I trust you."
    "Thank God you don't know how to lie to me." His hands seized her shoulders and his mouth closed over hers with a savage eroticism that threatened to swamp Mercy. The muscles of his hips bunched as he drove himself slowly, inevitably forward.
    She felt him move within her, surging completely into her with an impact that took away her bream. Her body adjusted eagerly to his. There was no pain, only an unbelievably taut, filled sensation. Then she forgot about the woman in the mirror, forgot about everything except the sensual wonder of having Croft inside her.
    "Oh, my God, Croft." She clung to him, wrapping her legs around him in a desperate effort to hold him as deeply as possible within her.
    "Sweet Mercy," he muttered. It was an oath and a prayer and a hoarse shout of triumph.
    Croft held her as tightly as she held him. His fingers were clenched deeply into her soft flesh. Mercy gave herself up to the enthralling excitement, aware of her body tightening in a new and totally different way as Croft plunged into her and then withdrew in a rhythm of mounting tension.
    Mercy felt free to fly now. She yearned for stars she had never touched, sensing for the first time in her life what awaited beyond the threshold. Even as she reached out blindly, giving herself completely, she knew she didn't fear the unfamiliar experience that awaited. Croft was with her. Together they grabbed for the shimmering conclusion to the ever-tightening spiral of sensation.
    "Yes, damn it,
yes
," Croft's guttural command came as Mercy cried out her overwhelming need for release. "Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours."
    She shuddered in his arms, sought for and found the unknown, hitherto undiscovered climax, and then reeled as it was thrust upon her.
    "Croft, oh Croft, please, I can't stand it." She clutched at him, burying her face against his flesh. She could taste his perspiration on her tongue as she gripped him in an agony of satisfaction.
    "Sweet Mercy, neither can I." He sounded awed with his own passion.
    And then there was no more room for coherent words or demands. The storm of their desire broke, leaving them drenched and shuddering in throbbing release.
    It was a long time before Mercy opened her eyes. Croft was still sprawled on top of her, his weight crushing her into the carpet. She smiled to herself, tracing small circles on his shoulders with the tips of her fingers. He had his head turned away from her, facing the mirrored wall as he rested on her breast.
    Mercy was unaware that he was watching her in the mirror until she happened to glance in that direction and realized his eyes were wide open and very intent.
    She grinned impudently at him. "What do you think you're staring at, Mr. Martial Arts Expert?"
    "You."
    "I don't recall giving you permission." She teased him with her eyes and a tilted mouth.
    "I didn't ask." He lifted his head, slowly peeling himself away from her perspiration slick body. "Wouldn't be much point. You'd probably have said